with closed eyes to dash against darkness
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: In a raid against Death Eaters, Sirius gets caught - and the Dark Lord gives him to Regulus as a reward for his services. For Emy.


Written for Quidditch League, Round 5 — Appleby Arrows, Chaser 2: Use a title from your team's Chaser 3 as inspiration - "RAB", from the collection Ricochet, Chapter 5, (dialogue) "Do you mind if we stop for a minute?", (genre) family, (action) pacing nervously.

Also for Hogwarts' Seasonal Events: Days of the Year - June 26 2018 - Forgiveness Day: Write about someone forgiving/being forgiven, Summer Prompts: (word) relax, Color Prompts: blue-green, Birthstones - Alexandrite: "I thought I'd hit rock bottom, but apparently rock bottom has a basement.", Shay's Musical Challenge: Newsies - write about finding a better life, Gryffindor Themed Prompts: (character) Sirius Black, (trait) bold.

And the Writing Club: Character Appreciation - 23 - (word) hero, Disney Challenge: S1 - (dialogue) "Be careful what you wish for.", Shannon's Showcase: (dialogue) "How did you get so brave?" / "I learned it from you.", Book Club: Pine Sap - (trait) insomniac, (word) hesitant, (dialogue) "I don't have the heart for murder.", Showtime: 19 - History Has Its Eyes On You: (emotion) shame, Count Your Buttons: W1 - young, Lyric Alley: 31 - I've been living without a family since I was a child, Ami's Audi Admirations: 15 - Write about a character questioning something, Emy's Emporium: Spain - 3. Gibraltar - (Trait) cheeky, Bex's Biscuit Barrel: Jaffa Cake - (word) writing, (character) Regulus Black, (emotion) anger.

For Funfair: Northern - Ghost Train: Compartment 18 - Genre: Angst, Southern - Wheel of Fortune: (word) strain, Eastern - Ferris Wheel: (dialogue) "This was my only option." / "There's always another option.", the Daily Prompt Challenge: (color) silver, Pinata Club: Easy - (relationship) siblings, Hamilton Mania: Act 1 - 7 - Having an argument - (genre) angst, Optional Prompt: 24 - (word) invisible, Insane House: Quote - "In spite of everything, I still believe people are really good at heart." – Anne Frank, The Diary of Anne Frank.

And also for GGE, for Emy.

 _Word count:_ 3001

* * *

Sirius became aware of his new surroundings slowly, his head pulsing and aching as he struggled to open his eyes.

He didn't recognize the room he was in—if it even was a room. The darkness was so thick it was impossible to see anything. Metal clicked when he moved, and he didn't quite manage to bite back a groan as he forced himself to sit up. The gesture hurt his shoulders, and it didn't take him more than a few seconds to realize why.

Heavy chains bound his wrists to the wall, cold metal manacles so tightly clasped around his wrists that he almost couldn't feel his fingers. Sirius couldn't help it; he panicked.

He yanked on the chains as hard as he could, his mind racing to remember what could have happened to him for him to end up in this situation.

The last thing he remembered was being with James and Lily. They had been… fighting, maybe?

Yes, fighting. There had been an attack and the Order had been sent out to stop it. He could remember that.

"James?! Lily?!" he shouted out into the darkness, his heart racing as he tried to remember if they had been struck down too.

Nobody answered him, but that didn't reassure him. Silence, in his experience, didn't have to mean nice things.

James, Lily and he had gone out together. It was supposed to have been a routine mission: go out, fight the bad guys, kick the bad guys' asses, save the day.

But they had been outnumbered. Right from the start, something had been wrong, and though it rankled, though it _freaking_ _hurt_ , this fight had been lost before they had even gotten there.

It had almost been like the Death Eaters had been waiting for them too, but Sirius chased off that thought almost as soon as it formed.

He yanked on his chains again, only succeeding in making the skin on his wrists chafe.

He gave up for now, instead settling back against the cold stone wall and cast his mind back to the attack.

He remembered how he had ended up here now. Someone had tried to curse James while his back was turned.

Sirius had seen the sickly blue-green spell though, and before he had known what he was doing, he had dove in between his best friend and the spell, a _Protego_ on the tip of his tongue.

Not that it had mattered—the spell had passed through the shield like it hadn't even been there, and apart from a sudden sharp burst of pain and James screaming his name, Sirius didn't remember anything else until he woke up here.

But at least now he had actual hope that James and Lily had probably escaped. Heck, they were probably even planning up some rescue mission right now.

He hoped.

He pulled on the chains and tried to map out his cell. It was small—three stone walls, including the one he was chained to, with bars on the final wall that he could only just reach with his feet if he stretched out his legs. He might be able to slip out of those—if he could get out of these chains.

He tried to feel for a locking mechanism, but nothing jumped out at him. He cursed under his breath, realizing that magic was probably the only way he'd be getting out of these shackles.

But that gave him an idea… He might not have a wand, but he didn't need one to turn into Padfoot—and a dog might even have an easier time at escaping. It had worked more than once at Hogwarts, after all, and even a handful of times after skirmishes against Death Eaters.

He made himself relax and tried to call forth the magic that let him turn into Padfoot. For a short instant, Sirius thought it was working, the familiar feel of his other form settling over his own skin—but then, something went wrong.

The smooth magic turned sour, lashing back at him violently, causing the shackles to erupt with blindingly white sparks that spread to his nerves and made him scream until he let go of the transformation.

He fell back, panting, his mind racing at what had just happened.

He was only just starting to get back up, wondering if maybe he should try again, when a voice cut through the darkness.

"I wouldn't do that again if I were you."

Sirius' mouth ran dry, his stomach filling up with dread. This voice was familiar.

Too familiar.

"Who are you?"

The man stepped forward, the light from his lit wand just enough for Sirius to discern his features. "Hello, Sirius."

Sirius' heart stopped. "Regulus."

* * *

Regulus had known something was wrong from the instant his mark burned, forcing him to abandon the letter he was writing before the pain caused him to ruin it.

His first thought was that the Dark Lord had found out what Regulus had done at the cave—how he'd taken the Horcrux left there and been trying to destroy it ever since—and his stomach dropped. His hands started shaking as he stood up and started pacing.

But no. He wouldn't be summoned if the Dark Lord knew. He probably wouldn't still _be there_ if the Dark Lord knew, even if that thought was what had kept him up at night all of last year, turning him into an insomniac.

" _Kreacher_!" he called out, and with a loud crack, the house-elf appeared.

"Yes, Master Regulus?"

Regulus found himself pausing in his nervous pacing to smile at the elf. "I'm afraid I must leave for a little while. Will you put this away?" he asked, waving at his desk.

Kreacher nodded eagerly, and after thanking him and giving him another smile, Regulus left.

The pull of the Mark led him to Malfoy Manor. Regulus had been there before, of course, but the place had… changed, since the Dark Lord had claimed it as his current headquarters. It felt darker, misery permeating the walls.

It always made Regulus slightly hesitant to walk there, as though the place was only just waiting for the chance to swallow him up, but he had grown up in Grimmauld Place. A deadly home wasn't anything new.

He walked to the room where he knew the Dark Lord had set his throne, and knocked.

"Bella, dearest," he heard from inside, "would you mind letting our guest in?"

Regulus bit back a shiver at his cousin's eager agreement and forced himself to school his features into polite interest, though he couldn't stop himself from pacing nervously as he waited.

Finally, the door swung open. "Reggie!" Bellatrix was grinning widely. "You nearly kept us waiting!"

"Us?" Regulus asked, choosing to ignore that nickname as he slowly followed her inside.

"Of course!" she replied. "Come on, our Lord has a gift for you."

She was smiling still, but knowing her, that didn't mean anything. He had seen her smile as she tortured those who got in her way before, and Regulus wasn't deluded enough to think that being family would protect him from her.

It never had.

 _A gift_ , she had said. Regulus dreaded to know what that could be, but he followed her dutifully anyway, kneeling before the Dark Lord when she did.

"My Lord," Regulus said, forcing his tone to be reverent and hating himself for it. "You summoned me?"

"Ah, yes," Voldemort's smooth voice replied. He sounded amused, and Regulus' heart only started to pound harder. Amusement was rarely a good thing when it came to the Dark Lord. "Rise, Regulus."

Regulus did, whispering a gratitude he didn't truly feel.

"You have served me well," he continued, and it took all Regulus had to keep a straight face.

"I have only done my duty, my Lord," Regulus replied, keeping his head angled downward as he willed his heart to stop racing.

Voldemort hummed. "Perhaps," he said. "But you have served me well nonetheless. You deserve a… reward." His smile was audible in his words and Regulus shivered.

"My Lord?"

"Earlier today, some of my Death Eaters conducted a raid on some Muggle town and they encountered some… opposition. I'm sure you can guess who," he stated with a nasty smile. At his side, Bella cackled.

Regulus had the dreadful impression that he could. "Sirius," he whispered.

The Dark Lord chuckled. "Very good, Regulus. Very good. Indeed, your brother was among the misguided souls trying to oppose me."

"What—What happened?" Regulus asked, cursing himself for the falter in his voice.

Bellatrix laughed again, gleeful. "We caught him!" she sing-sang.

"Sadly," Voldemort continued after a nod, "his little friends escaped. But they'll come for him." He grinned, an ugly, terrifying thing that was barely even a smile. "And then we'll get rid of them."

Regulus made himself smile even though his heart raced. He had never liked Potter, and Evans was okay at best—because there was no doubt these were the ones the Dark Lord was referring to—but that didn't mean he wanted them dead.

And Sirius, despite all his faults, was still his brother.

"What do you want me to do then, my Lord?" he asked, his mouth dry.

"I thought you might like to… spend some time with your brother again. As long as you don't damage him too much," he added, almost as an afterthought. "Bella will show you the way."

"I—Thank you, my Lord. This is an honor," Regulus replied, inwardly panicking.

"Like I said, you have served me well, Regulus. Now, unless you have something you want to tell me, you can go."

It was clear that the Dark Lord didn't expect Regulus to have anything to say, and yet, instead of taking this offered exit, Regulus lingered.

"My Lord… If I may…" Regulus started carefully.

When the Dark Lord only raised a questioning eyebrow, he continued.

"I believe that simply keeping Sirius locked up while we wait might be a waste — he is still a Black, after all. A Pureblood."

"You believe you can turn him against them," Voldemort said, amused.

Regulus swallowed. "Maybe," Regulus said, forging on to present the advantages of Sirius joining the Death Eaters—lies, of course, but they might buy him some time.

Bellatrix leaned forward. "And what if he doesn't?"

"Then I'll take care of it," Regulus replied steadily. Bellatrix laughed, and even the Dark Lord chuckled at that.

"Good," he said. "Then I trust you know what to do."

Regulus nodded and thanked him before following Bellatrix out.

She left him at the entrance for the dungeons with a smile and no further instructions.

Then again, she didn't have to. All Regulus had to do was follow the screams. Undoubtedly, his brother had just tried to use magic—a mistake all the prisoners made at least once.

* * *

"Regulus." Sirius' voice rang clear through the darkness, and Regulus' heart clenched at the disdain he could hear. It seemed that even now, years after he had last stopped expecting anything from his brother, Sirius could still affect him with a single word.

"Sirius," Regulus repeated, nodding. "You're looking… well."

Sirius barked out a mocking laugh. "Oh, really? We're doing this now? You know, I thought I'd hit rock bottom when I woke up here, but apparently rock bottom has a basement."

Regulus couldn't fight back an eyeroll. "Well, I see you haven't changed. You're still insufferable."

"And you're still a dirty Death Eater," Sirius shot back, teeth bared angrily.

"Only because that was my only option," Regulus retorted, immediately cursing himself for letting slip out even that much.

This was the Dark Lord's domain, who knew who could be listening in?

"There's always another option."

"Easy for you to say." Regulus scoffed. "Some of us don't have convenient friends we can run to. Some of us can't run off to be heroes. _Some of us_ have to stay."

It was hard to say, but Regulus thought he saw something flash through Sirius' eyes. It was gone too soon for him to identify it.

"Like you ever wanted to leave."

This time, Regulus let out a bitter laugh. "You _didn't_ _ask_."

"Would you have said yes?" Sirius countered. "Joining Voldemort's little boy band was all you ever wanted!"

Regulus shut up. Truth was, he wouldn't have. Sirius was right—Regulus had been an idiot kid, too enamored with an ideology he'd thought clever to see how terrible it truly was.

"Well, you know what they say—be careful what you wish for," he found himself whispering.

"What was that?"

Regulus blinked. His _Lumos_ almost blinded him, and he had to shake out black spots from his vision. "Nothing."

"Sure." Sirius scoffed again. "Whatever." He shrugged. "Well, if you're here to kill me, just get it over with. I'm not in the mood for whatever this is."

"I'm not here to kill you."

"What, grown soft in your psychopath days? Don't let your little band find out, who knows what they'll do to you." Sirius' voice was mean and gleeful—a perfect reminder that he, too, was related to Bellatrix, for all that he might want to deny it—and even though Regulus knew that was the reaction his brother wanted, he still flinched.

"Well, I guess I just don't have the heart for murder," he retorted as plainly as he could.

Sirius snorted and leaned back, his head hitting the wall with a soft _thud_ that echoed. "Sure. Just torture and all those nasty things, then? Because those are so much better."

Regulus bristled, and he was ready to retort, but he realized that he was still playing right into Sirius' hand, just like he had used to when they were younger. He took a deep breath and stepped back.

"I didn't come here to fight."

Again, Sirius snorted. His chains clicked as he moved, a mocking grin painted on his face. "Oh? Then what did you come here for? Just to gloat?"

Regulus faltered. "I…" He trailed off. "No. I didn't come here to gloat."

"Well, good for you then." Sirius sneered. "And in that case, you can leave now."

"Right," Regulus said, but for some reason, he stayed. He could feel an idea starting to take shape in his head, making his heart beat faster with adrenaline and causing his hands to shake—he had a feeling he wouldn't like it.

And he was right—as Sirius took to studiously ignoring him, Regulus started to formulate a plan. It was half-baked at best, more worthy of a Gryffindor's last dash for… something than anything a proper Slytherin should entertain, but Regulus had done plenty of stupid things already.

What was one more?

He had stayed by the Dark Lord's side after his betrayal and untimely survival—courtesy of Kreacher—in the hopes of learning something useful or get the opportunity to kill him, but in over a year, that still hadn't happened.

Perhaps it never would, and this—this auspicious meeting with his brother—might be his best chance at getting out and still do something good about it.

Making a decision was only a matter of seconds, in the end. He gritted his teeth and raised his wand higher. The pale silver light seemed to shine brighter as he said, "Get up."

Of course, Sirius didn't move a muscle, and Regulus felt a flare of anger burst through his veins. Trust his brother to be contradictory even at the worst time possible.

"I said, ' _Get up_ '." And he let go of his _Lumos_ just long enough to cast the spell he knew would break open the chains binding his brother. They fell off with a loud metallic sound, and Regulus brought back his light just in time to see his brother look down at his freed hands in astonishment.

Astonishment that turned into distrust as soon as Regulus moved to open the door.

"What the hell is this? What kind of evil plan does your Master have this time?" Sirius sneered.

Regulus sighed. "No plan. This is all me, I can assure you."

"Sure. Like I'd believe that. When did you get so brave?" he asked mockingly.

"I learned it from you," Regulus retorted, immediately turning around to hide his face and how unexpectedly honest he had been.

Sirius fell silent, and after a few seconds, Regulus continued, "Anyway, I'm getting out of here. You can either come with me, or…" He left it up to Sirius' imagination, and was grimly satisfied when his brother stood up with a grunt and started following.

"This doesn't mean I trust you," Sirius' disembodied voice whispered as they walked quickly toward the stairs—Regulus had to render him invisible if they had to have any chance of escaping alive.

At this time of the night, it wasn't surprising to find the Manor empty, but Regulus didn't relax for it, and he kept a brisk pace as he navigated them through half-familiar hallways in silence.

"Do you mind if we stop for a minute?" came his brother's voice, so sudden he almost jumped out of his skin.

Regulus sighed, but he could hear the strain in Sirius' voice. Clearly, that time spent in the dungeons, plus whatever unknown curse had put him there, were still affecting him. Regulus felt a sudden burst of pity.

He looked around—nobody was there. He nodded. "Just for a minute."

Sirius didn't thank him, but Regulus hadn't expected him to. He has stopped expecting anything from Sirius a long time ago.

But maybe, he thought as he looked toward the Manor's entrance that felt so close and yet still so far away, maybe they could fix that. In the future.

Having a future again felt nice.

"Come on," Regulus said, eager to leave. "The sooner we can get out of here, the better."

He heard Sirius chuckle. "At last, something we can agree on, brother."

Regulus found himself smiling. It wasn't much—barely anything at all, in fact—but it was _something_. A start.

And as far as those went, Regulus could think of worse things.


End file.
